catch some light and you'll be all right

 

 

i spend my day looking at a computer screen, breaking only to pour a hot cup of coffee or take a walk around the building, my headphones drowning out the highway traffic. and i look at the parking lot. and people in restaurants. and the pin oaks in front of the house. the clothesline. the stove. at night, it's the blue buzz of the television that draws me close.

but on saturday, i looked up.

and saw an explosion of rose in the sky. a few spots of amber. we took a walk like we do every night and i couldn't get over the sheer beauty of it all.

later that evening, we took a blanket outside. to that far corner of the yard beside the blueberry bush, where we can't see or hear the road. and we talked like teens and looked up at the stars, the sky again a wonderous shade of ebony.

this morning i looked up and said a prayer of thanksgiving. for a clear lane on the highway (a blessing every time).

i've become determined to make this a habit, this upward glancing. to remind me of prayer. and of nature. and of consistency. because the sky is always there, whether i acknowledge it or not. and if paintings like this are always above me, it just seems silly to ignore them.